Bachelor To The Rescue. Lorraine Beatty
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it felt good to have a connection to the world again. She didn’t feel quite so alone and cut off.
A gardenia-scented breeze stirred the aged curtains on the windows, beckoning her outside to enjoy the evening air. After the day she’d had, she could use a heavy dose of peace and quiet.
Stepping out onto the wide curved porch, she inhaled the heady fragrance of the elegant white blooms glowing in the moonlight. Lainie gripped the railing, allowing the sweet scent to soothe her frayed nerves and provide a new perspective on her situation. The day could have ended much differently. But the Lord had spared their lives, provided a place to stay and the means to restore her important information. The only glitch was the person sent to help them was Shaw—and the news her job wasn’t going to start as planned. There had to be a mistake or an alternative.
She wanted to trust in whatever plan the Lord was working, but she couldn’t see any reason for Shaw being the one to come to their rescue. Everything had been going so well, on time and on schedule. Now her life had been tossed in the air like confetti, the pieces scattered in all directions.
Turning toward the far end of the porch, she gasped when she saw a figure seated on the front steps. Shaw. He was stretched out along the top step, his back against the post, one knee bent and his arm resting on his leg.
“Why are you lurking there?”
“I’m not. You looked like you wanted some alone time. I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“You should have spoken up when I came out then I could have—”
“Run back inside?”
She opened her mouth to deny it, then changed her mind. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he had any influence over her. Shaw stood and ambled toward her, his boots thudding with solid force on the old boards. He was a hard man to ignore. At five feet six, she wasn’t considered petite, yet Shaw’s height and solid mass made her feel dainty. Irritated by her wayward observations, she crossed her arms over her chest and raised her chin. He stopped a few feet away, but still close enough she could catch a whiff of sawdust. She’d always liked that smell. Quickly, she looked down at the cell phone in her hand.
“If you need to call someone, I’ll leave you alone.”
She shrugged, loneliness washing through her once more. “No one to call.”
“No friends or family?” His voice was low and gentle as he studied her.
“Nope. Just me and the girls.”
“I assumed when you left Baton Rouge you went back to your family.”
“I did. I went to live with my mother in Jackson, Tennessee. Chrissy was born there. After Mom passed, I went to work for her good friend, Mrs. Forsythe, in Memphis. Now I’m here.”
“I spoke to Mary Ogden this evening. The mayor’s wife. She told me he’ll be home around lunchtime on Monday. She said you should go by his office and speak to him about your job. She feels certain he’ll do what he can.”
She couldn’t see his eyes in the dim light, but she didn’t miss the conciliatory tone in his voice. He was still trying to make up in some way for the past. Something he could never do. “Can he get the library done by Thursday?” Shaw glanced away briefly, clearly stung by her question. She snuffed out the twinge of regret that surfaced.
“No. That’s all on me, but I promise I’ll get it done as quickly as possible. You can count on me.”
She started to remind him that she’d counted on him to keep her husband safe. But as distasteful as it was to rely on Shaw’s help, she couldn’t ignore the truth. If it weren’t for him, she and the girls might have been spending the next few days in a shelter, or living out of her car. He was doing all he could to help, even if his motivation stemmed from his own guilty conscience. She looked up at him and her gaze locked with his. The light had shifted and she could see the distress in his eyes. “I appreciate your help today. I don’t know what I would have done otherwise. I’d do anything for my girls.”
“Including taking help from me?”
Lainie squared her shoulders. “Yes.” The flash of pain that shot through his eyes surprised her.
She opened the door and stepped into her living room. Shutting the door, she inhaled a few deep breaths to ease the anxiety clogging her throat. For the time being, she had no choice but to accept help from Shaw. But as soon as she met with the mayor, she’d convince him to let her start work whether the library was done or not. And the moment she received her new cards, she would find a place for her family to live and put as much distance as possible between herself and Shaw.
But as she lay in bed that night, one image kept reappearing in her mind. The flash of deep pain that had filled Shaw’s eyes. Could the accident have affected him more than she’d thought? The notion disturbed her. If that were true, then her long-held assumptions about Shaw were wrong. And they couldn’t be wrong. She’d placed him in a nice little box. Labeled neatly and precisely. Irresponsible. Not to be trusted. Her world was neat and orderly, and if Shaw wasn’t the man she’d thought he was then that meant changing, and she didn’t like change.
Besides, his whole nice-guy routine was an act calculated to ease his guilt and redeem himself for the past. Well, she had news for him. No amount of help or phony concern could make up for his careless disregard for others.
Shaw pressed the trigger on the nail gun, the kickback reverberating along his arm. The activity helped ease the knot in his chest, which had formed last night when Lainie had stepped onto the porch and stirred his emotions. Her presence was shattering the peaceful life he’d found and unearthing a past he’d fought hard to overcome.
Her thank-you had been frosty, but sincere nonetheless. Truthfully, he couldn’t blame her. He’d feel the same way if he were in her position.
A few more pops and the half-round molding was secured. He picked up the next section and placed it against the paneling, making sure the mitered corners fit snugly. This room was one of two with paneled walls that needed major restoration. He was anxious to complete replacing the wainscoting and trim boxes. Then he could let the painters match the new stain to the old, and he and Russ could get started putting up drywall on the second floor.
The back of his neck tingled and he glanced over his shoulder to see Russ eyeing him curiously. “You need something?”
“Nope. Just wondering why you’re here so early on a Saturday?”
“We’re behind. There’s a lot of work to do.”
“So it doesn’t have anything to do with your guests?”
“Why should it?”
“I thought maybe you were anxious to get out of the house. The lady isn’t happy to be staying with you.”
That was putting it mildly. “Can you blame her?”
“Maybe not. But you need to stop blaming yourself.” Russ strolled away.
Shaw pulled the trigger on the nail gun. Russ was never one for expounding on things. He stated his position and moved on, and he was probably right. Shaw should have paid for rooms at the Dixiana motel and gone on about his business. But he couldn’t. Lainie might never forgive him for the past, but he’d do all he could to make sure she and her daughters were taken care of until the library was done.
Job complete, Shaw shut off the compressor, questions from the past surfacing again as he headed out to his truck. Had he done all he could that day? Or had he shirked his duty because of petty resentments? He’d been a different man then. Not nearly as safety conscious as he was now, or as experienced in dealing with a crew. Over the years, he’d learned how to spot troublemakers, slackers and guys who thought swinging a hammer was a thrill. If he’d known then what he knew now, he’d never have